


by any other name (a rose would smell as sweet)

by madworlds



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Coffeeshop AU, F/F, I apologise, and thought it'd be cool, anyway yeah straight!danny is included, don't remember if it was canon but probably, idek, minus supernatural parts oops, so okay also, this was written when i was shitty, to make a canon lesbian straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madworlds/pseuds/madworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Laura is a barista and Carmilla is the grumpy customer whose name she can't seem to spell right. / Or, a generic coffeeshop AU where Laura gets back at Carmilla by screwing her name up every. single. time. Hollstein, and hints of LaFerry and whatever Danny/Kirsch is called these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Coffee up for Caramel The Vampire!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990466) by [a_dot_burr_ell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dot_burr_ell/pseuds/a_dot_burr_ell). 



> i actually had to research the coffee parts, lmao. but i still know next to nothing about that, so if there are any discrepancies/errors, please let me know! (:  
> (also now that this whole thing is up you'd probably be best off if you just click the thing that lets you read it all at once.)

In your defence, the first time you misspell Carmilla's name is an honest mistake. It's ten in the morning on a Wednesday and you're working a shift pretty much singlehandedly because Perry has taken an _outrageously_ long bathroom break and Betty is so obviously hungover — that or still drunk, which, like, is it even possibly to find that much alcohol to drink on a Tuesday night? — that you're fairly sure she's doing more harm than good trying to take orders. You've put her solely to working the coffee machine because that way she can concentrate and doesn't have to actually interact with customers, but you keep doing damage control runs, just in case, to make sure she's not accidentally labelling a spiced latte as a flat white — which has happened before, and the lecture from a harried Perry after she'd calmed down the offended customer was _not_ any fun to sit through, so. 

You're rushing back from one such check up when _she_ slouches up to the counter. The girl's about your age, early twenties, dressed in all black and just a little bit hot, in a bite-your-head-off-and-enjoy-it kind of way. Well. It's slightly more than just a bit, but your possible interest ends abruptly after she cuts you off halfway through your polite greeting with an impatient order. Since your job entails being nice to assholes everyday, you keep your sarcastic replies to yourself, scribble down 'straight black' — honestly, the order-personality correlation cliche is _real_ — without (verbal) comment, and ring it up for her.

"Can I get your name?" 

She raises an eyebrow. 

"Uh," you say, rambling in true Hollis style now, because yes, okay, there is a little bit of attraction. "I ... kinda need it? You know, for the cup?"

"Ah." The eyebrow drops, agonisingly slowly. "It's Carmilla, cupcake." 

The pet name comes out of nowhere and it throws you. "What?" 

"My _name,_ cutie." She says something else then, but it goes over your head and it's probably a good time to cut your losses and end this train wreck of a conversation, anyway.

"Oh." You thank her and then shut your mouth, hard, before you can manage to screw up anything else in what is essentially a normal order, goddammit. "Right."

She pays you and then wanders off to wait, but you can see her smirking out of the corner of your eye every time you turn to pass something to Betty, and it's really messing with your concentration. So it's so _not_ your fault that you forgot to clarify Carmilla's spelling of her name, and end up scrawling a hasty _Camilla_ on it when you go to deliver the drink to her.

She nods when you place the coffee down beside her, not even looking up or bothering to offer any thanks. But when she gets up to leave, she heads to the counter and drops a couple coins into the tip jar, pausing there. You stifle a sigh and hurry over to find out what she wants.

"C-A-R," she says before you have a chance to speak. "Which I told you when you asked for my name."

"What?" and really, mentally kicking yourself is not enough punishment for this level of awkwardness; if you look back on it later, you're definitely going to blame everything on the fact it's Wednesday. 

"My name is Carmilla. With an R."

" ... Oh. I — Sorry?"

She sighs. "What's yours?"

"What's my what?" Yeah. Wednesday.

"Your _name,_ creampuff. So I can remember to spell it wrong if I get a chance to." 

You shrug. "If you can manage to spell Laura wrong, you've achieved something." Carmilla is almost not scowling now, which you think may also be an achievement. 

Perry, having missed your earlier abject humiliation, has followed you over. "Hi!" she says brightly, looking questioningly at you but directing her words to Carmilla. "So, can we help you with something?"

Carmilla's scowl has returned in full force. "No, I actually just remembered I have to be anywhere but here. But ... thanks."

She leaves and you _don't_ watch her go, really. It's just not worth it.

.


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #everydayupdatesandchill
> 
> also, if the inspiration thing doesn't show up on this chapter, elena6375 has written a coffeeshop au (different plot, but still) and it's great and you should read it (:
> 
> alsoalso, i am 99% sure that caffeine has neither positive nor negative effects on cyanobacteria. but it's lafontaine, so who knows, right?

.

It's not until next week that you see her again. You work the early morning shift most Mondays, which gets stressful sometimes, but it's barely hit seven and it's not time for the rush yet. At some too-early point, LaFontaine comes in and orders a hot chocolate, then leans against the counter for ten minutes to drink it and tell you about their investigation into the possible positive effects of caffeine on cyanobacteria, which you suppose is kind of interesting but seriously you should be recording this to use the next time you can't fall asleep, because a tape of it would be a whole lot more effective than white noise. 

So it's almost a relief when the girl from last week walks in. She's on her phone and doesn't look up properly until she reaches the counter, which allows you to roll your eyes at LaFontaine and get a unsatisfying confused stare — though you did fill them in on your embarrassment last week — in response. 

"Hey," Carmilla says, ignoring LaFontaine completely. Her gaze rests, you think, on your badge — with LAURA pencilled clearly on it — "cutie." 

Her identity dawns on them at the nickname, and they flash you a really unsubtle wink and a "See you, L," as they leave.

"It's Laura," you remind her, even though she was _just_ looking at your name badge. 

"So you've told me, sundance." You're not imagining the smirk now, and you really hate being screwed with when you can't retaliate, so you try to rush through the rest of the ordering process. 

"You know, you're quite chipper for 7am on a Monday," she drawls while paying you. Then, as an afterthought, "creampuff," and, yeah, screw your principles against glaring at customers. 

When you get the coffee to her later, you take a perverse pleasure in watching her face twist into a scowl as she takes the cup and reads the careful _Camila_ you've scrawled there. 

.

You don't work Tuesdays, and Carmilla's nowhere to be seen on Wednesday, but you manage to get in _Carmella_ on Thursday and _Mircalla_ over the weekend when you're feeling particularly creative. 

Revenge is _definitely_ yours.

.


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really short and kind of ehhh and i'm sorry. but i've almost finished writing and the rest is going to be long, so. (:

.

You see her the next Monday when the shop is otherwise empty, and it becomes apparent that evening is the best time for Carmilla. Granted, she's still dressed in all black, but she actually wishes you a good morning when she comes in — and it's five o'clock, but, okay — and there's almost a smile on her face when you point out that it's practically sunset.

"It's morning for _me,_ sweetheart."

"What are you, Dracula?" 

Carmilla laughs when you do, a sound pitched as low as her speaking voice, which all considered you suppose you should have expected. "Well, I have been known to bite ..." She raises her eyebrows, and that really isn't an action that should be able to seem so blatantly suggestive, but, well. 

You make her her usual order, and she stands against the counter and — maybe? — almost flirts with you and you actually consider spelling her name right. But you've got so many variations thought up that it seems an acute waste to give in now, so eventually you write _Carma_ — it's _half_ right — on the side and hand the cup to her. 

___She studies it, face deadpan, then frowns in apparent comprehension. "As in, Sutra?"_ _ _

___And oh god, that was _not ___what you were going for. "I — no. That has a K," you inform her, "and no R." Because correcting your spelling was obviously so much smarter than straight up denial. Great one, Hollis._ _ _

____Carmilla smirks at you. "I am aware of that, actually, but I'm glad you're so familiar with it, cupcake." She winks and sashays out, hips swaying slightly more than usual, while you're still in the process of dying from embarrassment._ _ _ _

____So maybe you haven't won yet._ _ _ _

____._ _ _ _

She manages to call you seven different variations of sweet foods on Wednesday. You write _Caramella_ on her cup and laugh at the face she makes. 

_____._ _ _ _ _


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this somehow ended up being straight!danny idek but i thought i should mention it.

.

On Thursday Carmilla comes in with a guy and you spend, like, fifty minutes of your shift pretending to not be watching them studying in a corner booth. She has her dark hair down today: it curls around around her face and seems to soften it, but then again that could just be because she's smiling so much — or that you're in the habit of appreciating her much too sharp cheekbones — which is just a general observation, of course. Because it's not as if you're _looking._

Instead of leaving immediately when your shift ends, you head over to the table Danny and Kirsch have commandeered; there are textbooks spread all over it, but the conversation seems to be mostly centred around football — which, ew, but it could be worse. You slide onto the seat next to Kirsch and sigh heavily, neatly interrupting their conversation about some team called the Ravens. 

"Alright there, Laura?" Danny raises an eyebrow at your entrance.

"Oh, yeah, no, I'm fine, definitely." Your tone's never been this flat in your life, which includes three and a half years at college, so it's probably not convincing. 

Wordlessly, Kirsch snaps his donut into pieces and offers you one — he is a good friend — but you wave it away, and his eyes widen. "Why the bad mood?" 

"It's not _bad."_

"You're turning down junk food, Little Nerd. It's bad." 

Danny pushes her long plait over one shoulder and studies you. "Is it a girl? Because obviously that's cool and all, but I don't think we can help with it ..." 

"I can help," Kirsch points out. "It's not our problem you're not into chicks, Summer Psycho." He elbows you conspiratorially and laughs, but Danny is like a foot taller than you, and you really can't afford to use that nickname affectionately no matter how invested she is in sports.

Danny shrugs, unbothered. "At least I _thought_ my way into college, Zeta."

Kirsch looks outraged, comically so — and, wait, are they doing this on purpose to cheer you up? — but Danny's reminded you of something. "Hey, do you guys know either of them?" You incline your head subtly towards the table Carmilla — you can hear her laughing, and _ugh_ — occupies, and then Kirsch turns straight away to stare, which pretty much gives you away.

"The two in the corner?" he asks loudly, and you wince.

Danny kicks him under the table. _"Try_ and be subtle about it, idiot."

He turns back around. "Right. Yeah, that's Will. We're bros, Little Nerd, him and me. He's a Zeta." 

Of course he is. You hadn't thought Carmilla would be the type to go for frat boys, but then again you manage to interpret Kirsch just fine, so maybe, just maybe, Will is one of the tolerable ones. You steal another quick look at the corner table and retract that thought. He's probably an idiot, and Carmilla probably spends three quarters of her time mocking him — and _enjoying_ it. Which would explain the laughing. "Oh."

"The girl's Carmilla," Kirsch continues. "I call her Carmsexy and she threatens to tear out my spine and impale my head on it. We have good times."

That even sounds like her. Great.

Danny's eyes widen suddenly. "Wait, Laura, is that the girl who LaF said you —"

"So," you cut her off. "Ravens, huh?"

Kirsch goes back to talking about his favourite team happily, and Danny flashes you a sympathetic smile that you ignore pointedly. It's easy to steal pieces of Kirsch's donut and let their discussion of the various merits of different defences distract you, and you're grateful for it. They're good friends.

Fifteen minutes afterwards, the corner table is vacant. _And_ Will holds the door for Carmilla when they leave. Asshole. 

.

You avoid serving her on Friday, focusing your attention on the coffee machine and the frappuccino you're making while Carmilla glares daggers right through her server the entire time she's ordering. Perry prints a neat _Carmilla_ on the cup, and the girl in question stares at it, expressionless, but she leaves without comment. 

Betty covers a shift she owes you on Sunday and you spend the weekend holed up in your apartment working on a journalism product.

On Monday Carmilla comes in with the boy — Will — again. He calls her _Kitty_ for some unfathomable reason and she says something back and laughs and her hair hangs loose around her face. She's smiling.

Not that you care.

.


	5. v.

.

Your shift on Thursday doesn't start until two in the afternoon, but you slightly miscalculate the time when you're getting ready and you end up outside the shop almost half an hour early. It's a nice day, though, and Danny lent you a book the other day, so you head outside onto a stretch of concrete behind the shopping centre. The ground is warm underneath you and it's the kind of peaceful that you could fall asleep to, which is a luxury you haven't had, for one reason or another, in the last few weeks. 

"Didn't expect to see _you_ here, cupcake." 

Apparently it's not a luxury you're getting today, either. 

Carmilla drops her bag — black, not that you were expecting it to be colourful — down and sits next to you, sighing appreciatively when her hands make contact with the warm stone. 

"Feel free to join me," you say, words slightly sarcastic, but you suspect you kind of ruin that by smiling. "Are you actually basking?"

"It's warm out here, sundance," and, well, it's not as if she's wrong. You have a few minutes of peaceful silence then, which you do pretty much nothing in except for turning a page or two and pretending to read them, but if Carmilla notices she doesn't say anything.

"No boyfriend today?" you ask her eventually, aiming to sound innocent but there's probably a hint or two of bitterness there because you are _such_ a sore loser sometimes.

"No — wait, what?"

"Boyfriend," you repeat, then when she still looks confused, "Will?" 

"My — you thought — oh." She kneads her brow with one hand, the other still resting on the ground by your knee. "You're killing me, Hollis. Will's my _brother."_

Brother. Oh. They're _siblings,_ which explains the similar features and the ordering for each other and the way neither of them seems to own a garment that doesn't come in black. Maybe the whole not jumping to conclusions advice from LaFontaine was accurate. You don't say anything, though, too busy putting the pieces together in your head, and Carmilla takes your silence as a need for clarification. 

"And even if it wasn't, you know, incest, he'd be barking up the wrong tree anyway." She quirks a slim eyebrow at you and smirks.

"The wrong ...?"

She sighs. "I'm a lesbian, Laura. If that wasn't already obvious?"

"So that's why you ... _Oh."_ Your gaze moves from her to your lap and back, and Carmilla manages to find more breath from somewhere to sigh out loudly.

"You're cute, sweetheart. Annoyingly persistent, but cute, and you also make really good coffee, so." She shrugs. "I can deal with the spelling."

"I — okay."

"I'm surprised I had to tell you, honestly." Carmilla stretches. "Would've thought you'd hear it from Clifford before me."

She's lost you again. "Who or what is Clifford?"

"Lawrence."

"Oh, _Danny."_ You frown, trying to remember how much you'd told Danny about Carmilla. "I didn't know you knew her?"

"I don't," she says, wrinkling her nose. "Ran into her and a tall guy on Sunday." Her brow creases. "The hell is a dudescort, by the way?" 

"I — it's a Kirsch thing." 

Carmilla shrugs. "Yeah, well, she asked about Will too, and then the frat boy corrected her, and then she said something about telling you, so I figured I should probably come clear this up with you first. Because who wants to be beaten by Xena, right?" She stretches, catlike. "So, hey, is it clear yet?"

"Danny's nice," you say mildly, still considering what she's said. "Wait, so if you're not dating Will — I've got a shift in ten minutes, I ... could make you a coffee, if you want. Except for free this time?"

"Is that you asking me out?" She leans back and tilts her head to the side, watching you with still raised eyebrows. 

Your face is really burning now and you're, like, ninety percent sure she's just laughing at you, but you're probably in too far to back out now. "Yes, uh, but you don't have to. Um. It's fine if you're busy."

Carmilla smiles at you. "See, it kinda depends, cutie. Are you going to finally spell my name right?"

(And, okay, so maybe you _do_ end up giving in, but it feels like a win anyway.)

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand we're done.
> 
> that was so much fun to write what. also um if anybody has an idea for a tumblr url for laura that /doesn't/ include her name in it, feel free to shoot me an ask (my tumblr is lils2theletter) or a comment here (:


End file.
